Legal Issues
by Andie17
Summary: Buffy and Spike's fathers are rival law firms in LA. The families hate each other. They haven't seen each other in years. What happens when they get really drunk together? ;) UPDATED: MAR 17-04
1. Prologue

Legal Issues  
  
Summary: Buffy and Spike's fathers are rival law firms in LA. The two families hate each other. The kids haven't seen each other in years. Both are perfectly content to go on with their lives, until they bump into each other at a restaurant and have a huge fight. Days later, Buffy and Spike still can't stop thinking about each other. What happens when they both get trashed at a bar and things get a little out of hand?  
  
A/N: This story is based on the fic idea that was posted by vampssuck on Spuffy Archives. I thought it was cool.  
Prologue:  
  
"Jenny, I'm so glad you could come." Joyce Summers ushered Jennifer Giles and her young son into their mansion. Jenny gave Joyce a friendly smile as the women moved toward the expensively furnished study on the second floor. Joyce rubbed her swollen stomach.  
  
"How long until Hank gets home?"  
  
"Oh, at least another hour. Enough time to go over what we've found." They stepped into the office. It's walls were lined with books. Mostly dictionaries and legal volumes. They sat on the plush leather sofa that was pushed against a free wall.  
  
A cute blonde girl sat on the floor, pushing a Barbie back and forth in a plastic pink convertible. Jenny's son grimaced with distaste at the girl's choice of toy.  
  
"William, why don't you and Buffy go play a game," Jenny suggested, pushing a brown curl out of his sparkling blue eyes. The girl looked up at the sound of her name, blonde pigtails bouncing playfully. She glanced at William as he started cautiously toward her, then at Joyce.  
  
"It's okay, Buffy. You two have fun. And try not to break anything. Go on over to your play room. We'll be over in a bit."  
  
"'Kay, Mommy," Buffy agreed. She stood up and walked to the door, William only following her when Jenny pushed him toward the door.  
  
The children walked side by side to the play room at the other end of the hall. Once inside, they sat cross-legged on the blue carpet.  
  
"How old are you anyways, Will-yum?" Buffy asked curiously, tilting her head in inquiry.  
  
"I'm eight," he said, rolling his eyes. He told her every time they saw each other, but Buffy always forgot. Buffy shrugged.  
  
"I'm only six. But I'm almost ten. My mommy says when I'm ten I might get a pony."  
  
"Why would anyone want a bleeding pony?" Buffy stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
" 'Cause they're pretty." Her green eyes widened as a thought struck her. "You should get a pony. A British pony. Then you could talk to it in your own language." He frowned at her.  
  
"I speak the same language you do, stupid. I just talk it different." Buffy looked down and picked at her white dress shoe.  
  
"Whatever." She glanced devilishly up at him. "My daddy could beat up your daddy."  
  
"Well, my da says your da's a poof and that I shouldn't listen to anything he says 'cause it's pro'lly a lie." Buffy punched William in the shoulder.  
  
"Is not! You're stupid."  
  
"You're stupid. And you're name's dumb too!" he retorted before making a face at her.  
  
"Is not, poo-head. And my real name's 'Lizabeth. My dad says it's pretty."  
  
"Yeah, well, your mum's fat."  
  
"Not fat, nimrod. She's pregnant." William reached over and roughly yanked on her pigtail. She pouted and rubbed her head soothingly. Then she smiled. "Wanna play hide and seek?" 


	2. Recognition

Chapter 1: Recognition  
  
"So you really like this guy, huh, Will?" Buffy Summers asked, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm as they entered the restaurant.  
  
"Yeah. He's cute and funny and. . ." The redhead sighed dreamily. "I think he could be the one, Buff." They sat at a vacant table and took the menus that a waiter thrust in their faces.  
  
"That is so great. I'm so happy for you."  
  
Willow Rosenburg had been Buffy's best friend ever since they'd started high school together, nine years ago. Now, the pair were twenty-three and as close as ever.  
  
Lately, Willow had been dating this guy Xander, whom Buffy had never personally met. But Willow seemed to like him well enough, so Buffy approved for now.  
  
"Thanks. I really want you to meet him. He's a real sweetheart. You'll love him, I'm sure." Buffy laughed softly, pushing a stray blonde hair out of her sparkling green eyes.  
  
"I know I will. If you like him this much, I'm sure he's a keeper." The waiter returned and took their orders. The restaurant they were at was called Legend's. It served various dishes named after movie stars and other celebrities. "Where did you meet him again?"  
  
"I was shopping for supplies for class. You know, crayons, glue, colored paper. The usual. And he reached for a box of crayons at the same time." By the end of the sentence, Willow's gaze had drifted off into space. Buffy frowned.  
  
"Why would a grown man be reaching for crayons? I mean aside from teaching kindergarten, like you, which is unlikely at best." Willow giggled.  
  
"I reached for the box at the same time as him, and then he holds them out to me and says, 'Here, you can have this box,' and I told him to keep it, that I would get another box, so he goes, 'No, it's okay. I really didn't need them, I was just looking for a good way to initiate conversation with you that didn't result in me bleeding from any part of my body.'" The redhead laughed again and sipped at the Coke that was placed in front of her. Buffy smiled.  
  
"So what does he do for a living? I mean, he isn't in construction and doesn't live in his parent's basement, does he?"  
  
"No. And you're one to talk," Willow scolded.  
  
"Hey, first of all, I do not sweep garbage. And second, I told you, I'm looking for a place. Besides, technically, I'm not living with my parents when I'm in another wing of the house. Right?"  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Spike lazily tossed another fry into his mouth, observing the people around him in the restaurant. As he scanned the crowd, a beautiful blonde girl caught his attention. She was laughing with a redhead at a table on the other side of the bar & grill. She looked vaguely familiar. Was she a groupie? No. That wasn't it. One-night stand? Nope. Looked too classy to be anyone that he might've boned during a particularly drunk moment. Wait a second. A seductive smirk spread across his gorgeous face. He waved the waiter over to his table.  
  
"Hey, Buff. That guy over there just totally checked you out." Willow grinned.  
  
"What guy?" Buffy turned around, scanning the crowd for anyone she knew.  
  
"That hot blond one." She faced Willow again. "Never mind. The waiter's blocking him now."  
  
"Whatever. It's not like I've never had a guy check me out before. Anyway, what were you saying?"  
  
"I was saying that I could get Dawn some babysitting jobs with kids from my class. I know some of the mothers are looking."  
  
"Oh, that's great, Will. I know Dawn could use the cash. She's going through her 'I don't need your stupid money' phase and wants a little spending cash. I'll mention it to her tonight."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Miss?" A waiter interrupted them, holding out two bottles of beer toward Buffy and Willow. "Complements of the gentleman by the window." Buffy looked over to the window. A man with curly blond hair that was carelessly gelled into something uniquely stylish smirked and waved at her.  
  
"Told you, Buff," Willow said, picking up her beer and taking a swig from the bottle. Buffy frowned as the waiter left.  
  
"I know him."  
  
"You do? How?"  
  
"I don't. . ." She trailed off. There was something familiar about him. The sharp features, the full lips, the killer cheekbones. The blue eyes. She knew those eyes. . . "Oh, my God."  
  
"What? Who is he?"  
  
"William Giles," Buffy said softly. Panic rushed through her. She had to get out of there now. She stood, grabbing her purse and laying a twenty and a ten on the table. "Come on, Will, we're leaving."  
  
"What? Why?" Willow frowned at her friend's uncharacteristically jumpy movements.  
  
"I'll explain later. Come on, before he -"  
  
"Well, hello, cutie." 


	3. Confrontation

Chapter 2: Confrontation  
  
Buffy cringed as she turned reluctantly to face him. "Hello, William."  
  
"Spike." She frowned.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nobody but my parents call me William. It's Spike."  
  
"Whatever. Thanks for the drink, but we should really be going," Buffy said. Willow glanced uneasily between Spike and Buffy, clearly at a loss as to what to do.  
  
"What's your hurry, love? Sit. Let's have a chat. I haven't seen you in.what.fifteen years?"  
  
"Seventeen," she growled. Where was he going with this?  
  
"Seventeen years and you're all set to rush off."  
  
"Look, uh.Spike.I really have to go. It was nice to see you."  
  
"Bollocks. You haven't changed a bit." He took a step forward, closing the distance between them and roughly grabbing her upper arms. Then he menacingly growled, "You're still too good to sit and have a drink with an old friend. Pretty little rich girl." She glared at him, then pushed him away from her. He stumbled back a few steps.  
  
"We aren't friends. We never were."  
  
"You bloody Summers'. You're all the same. Selfish, arrogant brats!" Spike's eyes flashed dangerously.  
  
"You're one to talk, Mr. I'm-Better-Than-Everyone-Else Giles! You always were an asshole! And you wonder why I have an aversion to having a drink with you!"  
  
People were starting to turn and stare at them. It wasn't every day you saw to people about to go hand-to-hand in an LA tavern.  
  
"I can only hope your lil sis turned out better than you. I haven't met her yet. Poor lil bit. She pro'lly been exposed to your incessant nattering for so long she's gone bleeding mad." Before she even realized what she was doing, Buffy drew back her hand and slapped Spike across the face with a resounding smack, the force of the blow knocking him into a chair.  
  
"Bloody hell, woman!" he roared.  
  
"Buffy!" Willow said, clearly stunned by her friend's behavior. A frowning waiter appeared at Buffy's side.  
  
"I'm sorry, miss, sir. I'm going to have to ask one of you to leave." Buffy turned to him.  
  
"No problem. I was just leaving." Buffy caught Willow by the arm and dragged her out of Legends, hoping to God that Spike didn't follow her.  
  
"Who was that? What was with the violence and coarse language? You totally went Adult Supervision Advised on me, Buff." They walked quickly down the sidewalk toward Buffy's car, a brand new Pontiac Sunfire.  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. That was William Giles."  
  
"The guy you had a crush on in high school?"  
  
"No! Yes. A little. Leave me alone. I haven't seen him since Dawn was born. I had a little thing for him when I was a teenager. But only because he was the guy that my parents would never approve of. Like you and.some bad boy or something."  
  
"Okay. And we don't like him?"  
  
"He's a jerk. Always has been, always will be. It runs in his family."  
  
"Right. The whole 'I hate your family, you hate mine' thing?"  
  
"Yeah, that's the one. I don't even know why. Dad never told me and Dawn why we hate the Giles'. He said that it was something wrong that they should pay for, but never did. And that we weren't to have anything to do with them." Willow said nothing, contemplating this as Buffy started her car and began to drive Willow back to her house.  
  
"Alright.But you have to admit, he was quite the hottie." Buffy shot a glance at her friend.  
  
"Willow! I'm shocked."  
  
"What? I'm not blind, Buffy." She paused. "I'd do him."  
  
"Willow!" Buffy said again. "Good Lord, woman." Sometimes Buffy forgot that Willow was no longer the shy, book-wormy girl she'd been in high school. Buffy pulled the car onto the side of the road near Willow's apartment, so that her friend could exit. "I'll call you later."  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
Well if that wasn't downright interesting. Imagine that. He just went out for lunch and ran into Buffy Summers, of all people. He hadn't seen her since before her sister had been born. Ages.  
  
Spike hung his leather duster on the hook next to the door of his apartment. He went into the kitchen and rummaged through his refrigerator, looking for something remotely edible. A quick assessment confirmed that he needed to hit the grocery store. He opened the cupboard above the sink and pulled out a plastic bag. He tore a hole in it and popped a few mini marshmallows into his mouth before heading into the living room to watch his soaps.  
  
She'd looked good. Pretty as ever. He'd seen pictures of her in the paper now and then. When she'd passed her Bar exam. When her father had won a largely publicized case and the press had caught them in the middle of a father-daughter luncheon. Damn Hank Summers. Selfish bastard. The whole Summers family was nothing but trouble. But he'd be damned if Buffy wasn't right beautiful. And she was feisty. Kind of a turn on. She was probably a wild cat in bed.He could imagine her wrapping her legs around his waist, crying his name as he pushed deep into her.He groaned. Okay. Snap out of it. She's a bloody Summers. No hot, naked sex. Summers. Summers, Summers, Summers. You hate the Summers. Whatever. He probably just needed a good fuck. Been weeks since he'd gotten laid. Yeah, that's it. He was just horny. Yeah.  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
Buffy sighed deeply as she tossed her purse onto her bed. She rubbed her neck in an attempt to loosen the tense muscles there. She pulled off her coat and let it fall to the floor, walking to the bathroom. She turned on the taps of the bathtub, letting the tub fill with steaming water. Maybe a nice, long bath would make her feel better.  
  
She'd been having a perfectly good day until she'd run into him. Asshole. What gave him the right to yell at her in a goddamn restaurant? She'd just as soon not have talked to him at all, but no. He had to go and buy her a beer. Wanted to sit and have a nice, friendly chat. She'd tell him where he could stick his friendly chat.  
  
"What's the matter?" Dawn asked, leaning against the door frame to her sister's bathroom. Buffy turned slowly to retrieve the bubble bath form under the sink.  
  
"I had a bad day. How about you?"  
  
"Not too bad. Mom took me shopping. I got those boots I was looking at the other day."  
  
"That's nice." Wait. Wasn't she supposed to ask Dawn something? Oh, yeah."Hey, Dawn. Willow knows some people who are looking for a babysitter. You up for it?"  
  
"Sure. Not like I've got anything better to do."  
  
"Did that guy.what's his name.Terry. Did he ask you to the Spring Fling yet?" Buffy asked absentmindedly.  
  
"His name is Ty. Also, it's October." 


	4. Drunk

Chapter 3: Drunk  
  
"Oh, thank God," Buffy mumbled as she packed up the papers she needed for the weekend. Never a dull day in the life of a lawyer. Her day had been horrible. Her week had gotten increasingly bad after she'd run into Spike in Legends. The worst part was, she couldn't stop thinking about him. The asshole.  
  
Her dreams had been plagued by him. A less clothing-clad version of him. And a less disagreeable Spike. Oh, man. Naked Spike. No. Bad. Bad Buffy. You've been working too hard. That's all. You just haven't gone out enough. You need a date. You need to get drunk with Willow and let it all just float away.  
  
Buffy exited the Summers' law firm and got into her Sunfire, tossing her leather briefcase onto the passenger seat. She drove to the Summers' mansion as quickly as was legally possible and rushed to her room on the third floor. Kicking her high-heels off, Buffy picked up the phone and dialed Willow's number from memory. Her friend picked up on the third ring.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Will, it's me."  
  
"Hey, Buff. What's up?"  
  
"Come out with me."  
  
"What? Now?"  
  
"No. I mean at, like, seven. I've had a really rough week and I need to party. Come to The Bronze with me."  
  
"Uh.I dunno."  
  
"Come on, Will. It's Friday. Let's get trashed."  
  
"Alright. But I can only stay until nine. I have to get up early tomorrow. I'm visiting my mom."  
  
"Okay, whatever. I'll pick you up in an hour." She disconnected the call and moved to get ready.  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*  
  
"Wow. This place is packed tonight," Buffy observed as she and Willow entered the smoky nightclub. The Bronze was the most happening place this side of LA, and that was saying something, considering LA was kinda big.  
  
Buffy was dressed in low-rise, tight blue jeans that flared at the bottoms. On her top half was a sparkly black tube top. The outfit bared her midriff, but only slightly. Her hair hung in fluffy golden curls down over her shoulders. Her makeup was done in silvers and blacks. Her lips were only covered with a gloss. No color. All in all, she looked sexy.  
  
Willow was wearing a short black skirt and a tight purple sweater. Not as riské as Buffy's outfit, but she still looked good. Her red hair was done in ringlets, partially pulled back into a clip at the back of her head. Lighter make up decorated her glittering green eyes.  
  
The band playing was one she'd heard before. They were good.  
  
Buffy and Willow made their way to a table and Buffy ordered them some drinks. Buffy ordered herself a shot of Jack Daniels, Willow sticking to the safer route and going with a rye & ginger.  
  
They talked until Willow had to leave. By nine o'clock Buffy was slightly tipsy, having consumed more shots than she was likely to admit to.  
  
Willow stood up off her stool and slipped on her jacket.  
  
"Buffy, are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?"  
  
"No, Will, I'm fine. Go. I'll call you later." Willow frowned, but reluctantly made her way through the crowd and out of the bar. Buffy sighed and ordered up another shot.  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*  
  
"Along the highway...More...Much more than this.I did it my way." Spike sang under his breath as he sipped at his beer. He was more than a little drunk. But it was a Friday night. He was allowed.  
  
His band wasn't playing that night, so Spike was just hanging out at The Bronze for lack of anything else better to do. Or at all. He stumbled off his stool and into the crowd. He started toward the door and accidentally bumped into something. Or, more accurately, someone. He glared down at the slight form of Buffy Summers.  
  
"Bloody hell," he groaned. She scowled at him.  
  
"This makes my day complete," she muttered sarcastically. "You know, I was actually starting to have fun when you decide to bump into me. Literally."  
  
"Watch where you're goin', Goldilocks. You don't just go running into people like that." She gaped at him.  
  
"Hey, buddy, you bumped into me, not the other way around. Asshole."  
  
"Oh, for God's sake, woman, shut your bleeding gob. All you ever do is bitch."  
  
"How the hell would you know? You hadn't even seen me in seventeen years until a few days ago." He smirked and leaned toward her, heat vibrating between their bodies.  
  
"Yeah, and you can't stop thinkin' about it, can you, pet? You can't stop thinking about what it would feel like to have me kiss you. Have me inside you. Have me -"  
  
Buffy grabbed him by the lapels of his leather duster and dragged his lips down onto hers.  
  
A/N: Yeah, I know. Leave me alone. I'm evil. Hahaha. I'll try to make my chapters longer, but I'm not promising anything. What do you think so far? Any good? Should I keep going? 


	5. Morning After

Chapter 4: The Morning After  
  
Spike's hands instinctively flew to her hips, pulling her against him. Her hands moved up to entwine in his bleached curls. She felt his tongue graze her lips and involuntarily opened her mouth to him. He slipped his tongue inside the satiny heat of her mouth. She moaned when she felt his erection against her abdomen. He moved his mouth to the skin just below her ear, dropping kisses along her jaw bone as he went.  
  
"My place?" he whispered huskily. If it was possible, his British accent sounded even sexier when he was drunk. She nodded jerkily and he grabbed her by the hand, dragging her out of the nightclub. Spike hauled her down the damp sidewalk toward a shabby-looking apartment building. Evidently, it had rained a little bit while they were in the club.  
  
He roughly yanked the door to the building open and pulled her inside. They stumbled drunkenly up the stairs to the second floor. He stopped in front of a door that was covered in peeling blue paint, then shoved his hand in his pocket, digging around for his key. Once Spike had located the key, he thrust it in the lock and pushed the door open. He followed her inside. She looked around.  
  
From the rest of the building, you never would have guessed how nice Spike's apartment was on the inside. Black leather sofa, plush dark green carpeting. Very tasteful. But Buffy really wasn't concentrating on the decorating. She turned to face Spike.  
  
"Bedroom?"  
  
"Upstairs. First door on the left." She nodded and he followed her up the maple staircase to the walkway that led to Spike's bedroom. Spike's bed. She pushed open the correct door and stumbled into the room.  
  
He immediately backed her against a wall, pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the floor. She ground her hips against him and he pushed her shirt up over her breasts. She moaned when he lowered his head and placed lazy, wet kisses over her skin. He rubbed circles over one breast as he licked and kissed the other. Her fingers tunneled into his hair, dragging his lips up her neck to meet hers in a bruising kiss.  
  
He groaned her name and pulled her tube top over her head. It joined his tee on the floor and she fumbled mindlessly with the snap of his jeans. He pushed her onto the bed, unzipping her jeans as her head hit the pillow. He pulled the pants down over her hips and knelt between her knees. She gazed up at him, green eyes flashing with desire as his fingers found her.  
  
"Oh, God.," she moaned into the pillow. His thumb expertly pressed against her clit as his middle finger moved inside her. His free hand lightly pushed against her abdomen, slowly moving up her stomach to brush over her breast. Her breathing became ragged as her climax mounted. She cried out, shuddering violently when she came. He withdrew his fingers from her and she looked up into his intense blue eyes. She pulled him down and kissed him, opening her mouth to allow him entrance. His tongue swept through the silky warmth. She ground her knee against his groin and he groaned. Buffy pushed Spike's jeans down his legs and kicked them off the bed. He spread her thighs further apart, and her eyes fluttered closed as he positioned himself at her entrance.  
  
"Open your eyes," he growled. Only when she forced herself to gaze directly into his eyes did he thrust into her. She screamed and dug her nails into his shoulders. He pulled almost completely out of her before delving back into her. "Say my name." He kissed her neck.  
  
"Sp.Spike.," she whimpered.  
  
"God, Buffy. You're so.tight.hot." She let herself get wrapped up in it. The pleasure. Her hands moved over his glistening, sweat-slicked muscles as he pushed into her. She felt another orgasm spiraling through her, almost reaching its peak. She would have cried out when she climaxed, but he smothered her moan with a passionate kiss as he exploded inside her.  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
Buffy groaned and slowly opened her eyes. Her headache was unbearable. She rubbed her eyes, trying to remember where she was.  
  
"Oh, God," came a raspy voice from beside her. She looked over to see Spike sitting up in bed, glaring down at her. Her eyes widened. He was topless, presumably naked under the bedsheets. She looked down at herself. Also naked under bedsheets.  
  
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God," she whimpered.  
  
Cloudy flashes of her memory returned in bits and pieces. Spike kissing her neck. Spike taking off her clothes. Spike giving her the best damn orgasm of her life.  
  
"Bloody hell," Spike growled. He ripped the covers off of him and looked frantically around for any trace of his clothes. Spotting jeans near the end of the bed, he yanked them on.  
  
"This can't be happening," Buffy whispered softly, trying to shake the cobwebs from her brain.  
  
"Yeah, love, well, it can and is. Get dressed." He roughly tossed a scrap of her clothing at her, running a hand through his blond curls, a demonstration of his obvious stressed-out state. She hauled her shirt over her head and visually searched the room for her panties and jeans. She spotted the missing articles of clothing near the door to the bedroom and jerked the sheet off the bed, wrapping it around her waist as she went to pick them up. "Little late for modesty now, pet." She glared at him.  
  
"Screw you."  
  
"Been there, done that." He scratched his neck melodramatically. "I think. Don't really remember too much. Guess it wasn't really that memorable," he looked pointedly into her flashing green eyes. She ignored his insulting comment.  
  
"You know, this is all your fault," she accused, doing up her jeans and yanking the door open. His eyes widened.  
  
"My fault? My fault? You were there too, Buffy." She flinched at Spike's use of her first name. It was the first time he'd actually called her that.when they weren't having hot, naked sex.  
  
"Yeah, but you hit on me first. I think.," she added softly, flying down the stairs to his living room.  
  
"How would you sodding know? You don't remember any more of last night than I do!"  
  
"Yeah, well, still. It's more than likely that you initiated.it." She frowned as she crossed to the door.  
  
"Why? Can't admit to yourself that maybe you're attracted to me, can you? You wish you could remember every bit of what happened last night. Savor every moment." She flipped him the finger and slammed the door shut as she ran out of his apartment. 


	6. After Morning After

Chapter 5: After the Morning After  
  
After she left his apartment, Buffy returned to The Bronze to get her car. She drove home as quickly as was possible without risking injury or death, then trudged slowly through the house on her way to her room.  
  
"Hey, honey," Hank Summers greeted cheerfully. "Have fun with Willow last night?"  
  
"Loads," she lied. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen. She couldn't even look her father in the eye.  
  
"That's great. Your mom and I are going out for breakfast. We're taking Dawn. Did you want to go?"  
  
"No thanks, Dad. I've got some work that needs doing." He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.  
  
Buffy continued the trek to her room slowly, hoping she didn't run into Dawn and have to explain her mood. Sometimes her little sister was too insightful for her own good.  
  
Oh, God. What have I done? If Dad finds out he'll disown me. I had sex with Spike Giles. This is not good. Not good. Not good. She flopped down onto her bed and grabbed the phone off the hook. But you can't honestly say that the parts that you remember weren't incredibly fun. She was suddenly very glad that she had her own line. No one could eavesdrop.  
  
She dialed Willow's number and waited for her friend to pick up the phone. When she did, Buffy greeted her in a less than cheerful manner.  
  
"What's wrong, Buffy?" She could tell from Willow's tone that she was concerned. Buffy explained her situation as best she could, trying not to let her voice crack. When she was finished Willow's first reaction was, "Oh, man."  
  
"Will, if my dad finds out." Buffy trailed off, letting the thought spin away.  
  
"Don't worry, Buff. He won't find out unless you or Spike tells him. And why would Spike tell him? He's in the same situation you are." Buffy sighed.  
  
"I guess you're right. He just.me makes me so.grrr," Buffy growled into the phone. "I just wanna." Buffy made a violent gesture with her hands, and though Willow couldn't see it, she got the point.  
  
"Buffy, it's okay. You'll probably never even see him again. You went seventeen years without running into him, you can do it again." Buffy smiled.  
  
"Thanks. That's true. I feel a little better now." Her smiled faded slowly. "But he's such an -"  
  
"Buffy, language," Willow scolded.  
  
"Sorry. Well, I should go. Got work to do."  
  
"Alright. But before I forget," Willow started, "I think you should come on a double date with me and Xander. He said he could bring one of his friends. From the band he's in, remember? He really wants to meet you. And I'm sure it'd get your mind off Spike," she added slyly. Buffy nodded.  
  
"Yeah, alright. I can do the musician blind date thing."  
  
"Alright. The guys will pick us up at my place tomorrow night. We can get ready together like we used to," Willow said excitedly. Buffy grinned at her friend's obvious enthusiasm.  
  
"Okay. I'll be at your place tomorrow at five."  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
"Sodding chit," Spike growled.  
  
His room still smelled like Buffy. He roughly ripped the sheets off his bed, dragging them into the room at the end of the hall that housed his washer and dryer. He stuffed the bedding into the washing machine and cranked it on. It wasn't enough that he'd screwed his brains out with Buffy Summers, of all people. His bedroom had to smell like her too.  
  
He walked into his bathroom and turned on the shower. He let the spray run cold as he stepped beneath it, letting the freezing droplets run over his hard body, washing away all traces of her that were still left on him. But some things couldn't be washed away. Like the tiny gouges on his back and shoulders. He closed his eyes. In spite of the icy water washing over him, he felt his body tighten at the foggy memory of her wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him completely inside her. She'd been so.  
  
He angrily shut the tap off and rubbed himself dry with a towel. He wrapped it around his waist and moved into the kitchen. Maybe some breakfast would make him feel better. He was taking two eggs and a packet of bacon out of the fridge when the phone rang. He picked it up.  
  
"'Ello?"  
  
"Hey, buddy," came the voice of his best friend, Xander Harris, from the other end of the line. "How's everything goin'?"  
  
"Bloody hell. Don't ask. You don't wanna know." He rubbed his temple and set the uncooked food on the counter.  
  
"That bad, huh? So you probably aren't up to a double date with me tomorrow night." Xander knew his friend well enough to know that Spike would see this as a challenge, and meet it with enthusiasm, no matter what sort of mood he was in.  
  
"You and that redhead?"  
  
"Yeah. She said she could set you up with a friend of hers or something." A date. That was just what he needed to get Buffy out of his head. A good sober lay that wasn't blonde, sexy and feisty as hell.  
  
"Sure, mate. Think I could swing that." Xander grinned.  
  
"Awesome. We pick them up at Willow's tomorrow night at seven. Dinner and a movie."  
  
"Ah, the old classic, huh? Right then. I'll talk to you tomorrow." 


	7. Meet Your Dates

Chapter 6: Meet Your Dates  
"How do I look?" Willow turned, red strands shining, to face Buffy.  
  
"You look great, Will."  
  
Willow was decked out in a pleated navy blue skirt that hung to her knees and a baby blue v-neck sweater with three-quarter length sleeves. Her make up was light and shimmery.  
  
Buffy, on the other hand, had gone for the darker look. She had on a black leather skirt that hung to mid-thigh and had slits on either side that come to within an inch of the waist band. Her shirt was burgundy velvet and sleeveless. Her blonde locks swayed loosely around her shoulders. Her outfit was a result of subconsciously trying to prove she could attract the attention of a man who wasn't a) drunk or b) her worst enemy. Her make up was darker than she normally wore it, her lips shining a deep red.  
  
The doorbell to Willow's apartment sounded and they hurried from Willow's bedroom downstairs to the entrance. Buffy stood at the bottom of the staircase as her friend opened the door and allowed Xander and his friend to enter.  
  
Xander kissed Willow lightly on the cheek. "Hey. This must be Buffy." He let his gaze flicker over her and smiled warmly. "It's nice to finally meet you. Willow's told me so much about you." Buffy reached out to clasp his hand.  
  
"Nothing bad I hope."  
  
"Hardly. Buffy, Willow, this is my friend Spike Giles." He stepped aside, allowing Spike to move in front of him. Buffy gaped as she watched Spike's expression turn form shock, to distaste, to supreme amusement.  
  
"Good to meet you, Red." He nodded at Willow, then turned his icy blue stare back to Buffy. His gaze slid down her body, then back up to her face and he smirked when she blushed furiously at his obvious appraisal. Buffy glanced at Willow, who looked almost as stunned as her, if slightly more amused. "Well, well. Don't we have an interesting situation on our hands?"  
  
"Very." Buffy's tone dripped with sarcasm.  
  
"You two know each other?" Xander asked, looking confused.  
  
"No," said Buffy.  
  
"Yes," Spike answered at the same time. She folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes as he continued. "Buffy and I go way back, don't we Goldilocks?" She glared at him. Xander seemed oblivious to the hostility that flowed freely between his friend and his date.  
  
"Cool. Let's get going. Dinner awaits." The brunette led them outside to Spike's Desoto and opened the passenger side back seat door for Willow, making it clear that Spike and Buffy got the front seats. Spike slid into the driver's seat, letting Buffy get her door on her own. She sat down next to him as he started the car and clicked her seat belt on.  
  
Xander and Willow were now absorbed in their own conversation. Buffy sighed.  
  
"This your car?" she asked softly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Figures." Spike's knuckled whitened considerably as he tightly gripped the steering wheel, trying to ignore the jab.  
  
"Look, pet, I don't want to ruin this date for Xander any more than you do for your friend Willow. So I'll try to act civil if you do," he growled.  
  
"But-"  
  
"It's impossible for me to think you're any more of a whore than I already do, so just play along." Her green eyes flashed threateningly.  
  
"I suppose giving you a bloody nose doesn't qualify as civil."  
  
"'Fraid not, love." He grinned. Making her mad was so much fun.  
  
"I'll see what I can do."  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
The restaurant they went to wasn't too formal, but it was nice. Not nice enough for Buffy to feel underdressed, but nice enough for her to fleetingly think that it was possible Spike knew how to go on a date. That didn't necessarily end with a one-night stand.  
  
Sitting at the table assigned to them by the waiter, Buffy took the time, for the first time that evening, to assess Spike's wardrobe. She was surprised that he actually looked very gorgeous. Well, more so than normal. The duster had been ditched for a black tee, with a blue button- down shirt that was left open over top. The color emphasized the devilish gleam in his eyes. His hair still had gel in it, but only a little bit, so his curls were still prominent. He had opted for tight black jeans on his bottom half.  
  
He smirked at her knowingly and she averted her gaze to the menu she was holding.  
  
The waiter took their orders and flittered off to the kitchen.  
  
"So Xander," Buffy said, "Willow mentioned you're in a band." The brunette grinned.  
  
"Yeah. It's called Formal Charges."  
  
"What instrument do you play?"  
  
"I play drums. Spike's guitar and lead singer." She arched an eyebrow at Spike.  
  
"Really? Why are you called Formal Charges?"  
  
"Because that's what ol' Dad threatened me with when he found out I wanted to be a musician," Spike explained. In spite of herself, Buffy chuckled.  
  
"I can see that. I take it he expected you to take over his firm?"  
  
"Yeah. But we can't all be the perfect child." He looked pointedly at her, but she didn't rise to the bait.  
  
"You're a lawyer, right, Buffy?" Xander asked.  
  
"Yeah and she's really good," said Willow enthusiastically. "She's only lost two cases. Out of.a whole lot." Buffy laughed.  
  
"Yes. She does have a tendency to argue until she wins," Spike said softly. Yeah, until I met you again, she thought sarcastically to herself.  
  
"You two should come see us play sometime," Xander offered. Spike's eyes widened. Buffy cringed.  
  
"Oh, we'd love to, wouldn't we Buffy?" Willow asked. When Buffy didn't say anything, Willow kicked her under the table, causing her to wince.  
  
"Yes," she ground out.  
  
"Excuse me," said Willow. "I'm going to use the ladies room." She pushed her chair back and pulled Buffy out of her chair, dragging her friend behind her.  
  
Once inside the bathroom, Willow turned to her friend.  
  
"I had no idea that Spike was Xander's friend," she said hurriedly. "If I had, I never would have asked you to come."  
  
"I know, Will. It's okay. I promise to be on my best behavior."  
  
"Thank you so much. It's just I really like him, and I don't want to mess this up."  
  
"Your welcome."  
  
A/N: Hey guys.I'm kinda working on like.7 different things at the same time, so don't get too upset if my updating is a little.sporadic. Keep checking.I will update I promise 


	8. Kiss & Tell

Chapter 7: Kiss and Tell  
  
"So you guys know each other, huh?" Xander asked as Willow and Buffy hurried off to the bathroom.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You guys ever." Spike glared at him as he trailed off.  
  
"A gentleman never kisses and tells, mate."  
  
"Since when did you become a gentleman, Mr. Love-'Em-And-Leave-'Em?"  
  
"Sod off, Whelp."  
  
"Come on, man. You're not exactly world renown for your commitment abilities. Ever since your thing with Dru blew up in your face."  
  
"Dru and I did not have a thing. I loved her." Or I thought I did.  
  
"Whatever." Xander dropped the conversation as the waiter showed up with their food and the girls returned form the bathroom. They sat down in their chairs.  
  
"You two have a nice little chat?" Spike inquired.  
  
"Hey, food," Buffy said, ignoring Spike, who was grinning at her. He took a swallow of the bourbon he'd ordered earlier. Buffy cut into the roasted chicken on her plate.  
  
"So what movie are we seeing?" Willow asked, biting into her cooked carrots.  
  
"I thought we'd check out that new one about that girl who kills vampires or something, when she's actually shackin' up with a vampire," Xander suggested.  
  
"Oh, that blond guy? He's cute. And isn't her friend a witch or something?" Willow asked.  
  
"I'm game. 'Slong as there's plenty o' violence, I'm good," Spike agreed. They looked at Buffy.  
  
"Whatever. Doesn't matter to me what we see."  
  
They made small talk throughout the meal, not talking about anything that qualified as meaningful.  
  
They arrived at the movie theatre a little bit early. Getting out of Spike's Desoto, Buffy walked slowly toward the ticket counter. Xander paid for himself and Willow, entering the theatre. Spike approached the woman behind the counter and requested a ticket. She peered at Buffy, who was standing a little to the left and behind Spike.  
  
"Just the one, then?" she asked, clearly miffed that Spike hadn't ordered a ticket for the pissed-off looking blonde behind him. He nodded and Buffy glared at his back, silently wishing that something large and heavy would fall on his head. He smirked at her, as if reading her mind, and entered the theatre. A few minutes later, Buffy joined Spike, Xander and Willow at the refreshment counter.  
  
"Are you going to get anything?" Willow asked Buffy. She considered this.  
  
"Yeah, I have a craving for Raisonettes." She jumped when Spike put his hands on her waist, and turned, prepared to tell him off.  
  
"Be civil," he warned, only speaking loud enough for her to hear. She forced a smile.  
  
"Did you want anything?" she forced between her lips. You're better than him, she thought.  
  
"No thanks, love. I'll pass tonight."  
  
She started to the glass display counter, Xander following to get Willow a drink.  
  
"So, you and Spike seem to be getting along." Buffy grunted noncommittally. Grunting wasn't technically lying, right? "Well, I'm happy." He paused. "You know, I haven't known Willow that long, but I really care about her. I think I might love her. And I want that for Spike, too. But he doesn't really.open up.since Druscilla left him." Druscilla? Who the hell was Druscilla? "I think you seem.I dunno.different. He acts differently around you. I think you could be the person that will get him to quit being so.detached?" Oh, man. Too much information. He shouldn't be telling me this. God, help me.  
  
"All righty," Buffy laughed nervously. She quickly tossed a five dollar bill on the counter, scooped up her box of candies and turned. "Let's get back to our dates, 'kay?" Xander shrugged, grabbed Willow's drink, and followed Buffy, Spike and Willow into the theatre.  
  
The interior was already dimmed and the previews for upcoming movies were playing on the huge screen. Aw, man. This means I have to sit beside Spike, don't I? Buffy thought. She inched between two rows of seats, making her way to the next available block of four seats together. She sat in the seat at the end. Spike flopped down next to her, reclining as much as was possible. Willow and Xander followed suit.  
  
Buffy uncomfortably glanced at Spike, tearing open the cardboard box to her chocolate-covered raisons. She poured a few into her palm and popped them into her mouth. She heard Spike sigh and he reached for the box. She watched him, not moving, as he poured a few of her candies into his hand and ate one. She arched her eyebrow.  
  
"If you wanted to get some candies, why didn't you just ask me to get you some? I did offer."  
  
"That would have been to easy, love." Before she could answer, he spoke again. "Shush, now. Movie's starting." She rolled her eyes and turned to face the screen, leaning back and relaxing against the chair's cushy back. Spike's arm snaked around the back of her chair and she glared at him.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" He gazed at her, a look of complete innocence fluttering over his sharp features.  
  
"What, pet?" She nodded toward his arm. "You took the arm rest. I can't just sit here with my arm on my lap. It'll cramp up."  
  
"That is the lamest excuse I've ever heard, Spike. Take the damn arm rest." She removed her arm from the barrier between hers and Spike's bodies.  
  
"No thanks. I'm good." She gaped at him, shaking her head in disbelief.  
  
"Fine."  
  
She turned her attention to the film. They were silent. A few minutes into the movie, Spike's knee brushed up against hers. Oh, my God, she thought frantically. What the hell does he think he's doing?  
  
Oops. That was probably a mistake, Spike thought as he felt the jolt travel up his thigh at the unintentional contact with Buffy's bare skin. Next to him, Buffy shifted uncomfortably, moving as far away from him as was possible in the tiny seat, and he couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction. At least she was in kind of the same situation. Wonder how far I can take this before she slaps me, he thought mildly.  
  
Moving away from his body had unintentionally placed his hand closer to her than it had been. He let his fingers fiddle with her silky golden strands, seemingly in an absentminded manner. She shrugged his hand away, not wanting to make a scene. He grinned even wider and resumed fooling around with her hair.  
  
"Stop it," she whispered fiercely at him, green eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"Make me," he challenged. He slipped his hand lower, expertly caressing the tense muscles in her upper back and shoulders. He'd given a few massages in his day, and knew how to get the response he was looking for. Her frown faded away slowly, and she moaned softly, her head falling to one side, exposing her neck and shoulder. Spike could only smile as he continued to massage the tension out of her muscles. So far, so good. He hadn't been slapped yet. Taking this as an encouraging sign, he let his hand slip to her lower back, rubbing his fingertips in circles against the velvety material of her shirt. He felt a shiver travel up her spine. He trailed his fingers around her front to her knee and took a deep, even breath. He inched his palm slowly higher on Buffy's thigh, caressing her silky skin. When his fingers reached the hem of her leather skirt, he let out a low groan before he could stop himself.  
  
The noise seemed to startle her out of whatever kind of spell she'd been under. She glared at him, and he could only stare at her.  
  
"What the hell, Spike? Don't do.that. Just.don't," she stuttered. Her nervous embarrassment made him smirk.  
  
"Why not, love? Like it too much?"  
  
"You wish. Don't touch me. Keep your hands to yourself."  
  
She spent the rest of the movie with her arms folded across her chest and her legs crossed at the knee, trying not to concentrate on the wetness that had somehow pooled between her legs. And he spent the rest of the movie thinking of flies swimming in a cocktail. Anything to rid himself of the erection that now strained against his jeans.  
  
A/N: You like?? Hmm.I like Raisonettes. Whatever.Just review. 


	9. Shut Up, All Ready!

Chapter 8: Shut Up, All Ready!  
  
After suffering through an hour and a half of trying desperately not to touch each other, Buffy and Spike followed Willow and Xander out of the theatre to Spike's Desoto. The redhead and the brunette were both beaming, oblivious to their friends' scowls.  
  
"That was such a cool movie. Don't you think so Buffy?" Willow asked as Xander opened her door for her.  
  
"Yeah, great," she answered softly. To tell the truth, Buffy didn't even remember how it had ended.  
  
"That was so awesome, with the fighting," Xander agreed.  
  
Spike pulled out of the parking lot and started toward Willow's house.  
  
"Did you like the movie, Spike?" Buffy asked him, knowing full well he was just as clueless about the film's conclusion as she was.  
  
"Yeah, it was pretty good." He glared at her. She smiled sweetly.  
  
"What was your favorite part?" He tightened his grip on the steering wheel to keep from wrapping his long fingers around her tiny throat.  
  
"Uh. . .I liked the ending," he guessed.  
  
"When they all resurrected her and she got to be with the sexy vampire?" Willow asked. Spike grinned.  
  
"Yeah. I liked that part, love." Buffy rolled her sparkling green eyes. "So, you two ladies both going to Red's then?"  
  
"Actually, if you could take me straight home, I'd appreciate it," Buffy admitted sadly. "I have to work tomorrow."  
  
"Of course." His voice had some kind of emotion in it when he spoke, but she couldn't place it.  
  
"Yeah. I'm going to go in with Will for some coffee," Xander said.  
  
"Alright." Spike turned to Buffy, smirking. "Looks like it's just you and me, love."  
  
"Not for long." Then under her breath, she mumbled, "Then it's just you. Thank God." He smirked.  
  
"We'll see." What the hell did that mean?  
  
*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
Spike pulled over on the side of the road, across the street from the Summers' mansion. He'd dropped off Xander and Willow and then proceeded to Buffy's. They had remained blissfully silent throughout the trip. Now, Buffy broke the silence as he turned off the car.  
  
"Thanks for the lift. I'd say I had a good time and all that junk, but we both know that'd be a huge lie." He smirked as she opened the car door.  
  
"And you'd never to that, 'cause you're a lawyer and lawyer's never lie." She glared at him, stepping out of his Desoto, and he got out, walking around the car to join her as she strolled across the street and up the walkway to her front door.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Walking my date to the door. It's the polite thing to do." She bit back a sarcastic comment as she unlocked the oak door and pushed it open, stepping into the foyer.  
  
"Right. Well, bye." She got the door halfway closed before Spike stopped it from closing in his face and swung it back open. He stepped inside and ignored her rude dismissal of him. She gaped as he hung up his coat on the coat rack next to the door and turned to her.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?"  
  
"That's the third time you've asked me that tonight, pet. You need to expand your vocabulary."  
  
"This coming from the man who's vocabulary consists of 'love, pet,' and 'get your clothes and leave'?" He smirked again and she rolled her eyes, turning to walk up the stairs and retire to her bedroom. "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out," she called over her shoulder.  
  
"We need to talk, Buffy." He followed her up the staircase and down the hall to her room.  
  
"No, Spike. We don't. And really, what kind of a name is Spike?" She kicked off her heels, and they hit the wall with a dull thud.  
  
"As opposed to Buffy?" he said sarcastically, blue eyes flashing. God, this was fun. However did he get along for seventeen years without sparring with anyone like this?  
  
"ELIZABETH! Alright, look, I've had enough of you, William," she emphasized his name, and he winced. "Get out of my house."  
  
"We slept together." He followed her into the adjoining bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror and removed her earrings, looking Spike's mirror image in the eye.  
  
"What's your point?"  
  
"My point? My point is. . .Dammit, Buffy!" He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and turned her around to face him. Intensity shimmered between them, heat radiating from their bodies, making the room seem much hotter than it actually was. She defiantly stared up at him, her chest heaving beneath her velvety shirt as a result of him touching her.  
  
"Big deal!" she yelled. "We had sex. It didn't mean anything. We were both drunk. Just forget about it. It's safer for both of us that way."  
  
"Why? So Daddy won't find out and wash his hands of his precious little baby?"  
  
"Oh, fuck you. Just because you father already did-" Her angry rave was cut off shortly by a bruising kiss. Spike abruptly hauled her against his hard chest, crushing his lips down on hers.  
  
"For God's sake, Summers, don't you ever shut up?" He whispered harshly between fiery kisses.  
  
He forced her lips apart, not bothering to ask permission to deepen the kiss. His palm roughly caressed her soft breast beneath the velvety material of her shirt as his other hand squeezed her thigh, working her leather skirt up over her hips.  
  
Her fingers worked their way into his silky bleached curls as his mouth worked its way down her neck, nipping her skin. She shivered with arousal when his wet lips closed over her material-covered nipple. She moaned and reached behind her with her free hand. She found what she was looking for. Buffy opened the medicine cabinet and blindly searched for the box of condoms that was stored inside the handy little cupboard. She gasped when Spike's fingers slipped beneath her silk panties and circled the sensitive mound of nerves hidden by damp flesh and silky curls. His lips found hers again as he let his fingers circle her opening and she whimpered softly. He dipped one fingertip inside her, quickly withdrawing it to pull the panties off her.  
  
Stripped of the barrier, Buffy shoved the box of condoms into his chest before he could enter her. He sighed deeply, taking the package and tearing it open as she worked at the buckle of his jeans. He grabbed one of the foil packets inside, allowing the rest to scatter on the tile floor as he ripped it open with his teeth. He slipped the latex condom on his now-freed and throbbing erection.  
  
He sunk deeply inside of her, slamming her roughly against the wall of the bathroom as her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. She screamed in pleasure as he pulled almost completely out of her before thrusting back into her.  
  
Their breathing labored as their pace increased, climaxes building. She felt shivered radiate out from her abdomen as the orgasm rocked her. Her walls closed around him, milking him of semen. He held her against the wall for a moment afterwards, as their breathing slowly returned to normal. 


	10. Snuggly

Chapter 9: Snuggly  
"Oh, God. . .Wow," Spike said breathlessly, in between gasps of air. Buffy slid off of him and curled up next to him, the post-orgasm color slowly fading from her cheeks.  
  
"I. . .," she took in a deep breath, "agree." He sighed contentedly.  
  
"You do realize that it's completely pointless to try and pretend there's no attraction between us," he stated, dropping a light kiss into her sweat- dampened blonde hair. She fiddled with one of his bleached curls.  
  
"Yeah," she admitted, gazing up into his beautiful blue eyes. "You're right." She grinned slowly. "For once." He raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Oh, that's how it is, eh?" He playfully pinched her ass beneath the bed sheet. She squealed, jumping slightly in his arms. He laughed. "You know what I think we should do?" He lightly bit into her shoulder.  
  
"What?" He dragged his tongue up her skin to nibble her earlobe. She gasped.  
  
"I think we should keep sleeping together." She smiled in spite of Spike brushing his thumb over her nipple. She whimpered softly.  
  
"Oh, yeah?" He laughed against her damp skin. His breath lightly tickled her skin.  
  
"Yeah, love. I mean, just until we burn ourselves out."  
  
"You mean until we stop wanting each other?" she clarified. She couldn't imagine not wanting Spike. Not wanting him near her. Not wanting his lips on her skin. Not wanting to feel his delicious weight on top of her. . .  
  
"Sure. It's bound to happen, right?" She swallowed when she felt his fingers trail down her stomach, softly stroking her pliable skin. He kissed her neck.  
  
"Right. Just. . .uh. . .T-temporary lust. Lust. That's all."  
  
"Mmm hmm," he grunted. "Just lust. Right."  
  
"Right."  
  
Without warning, his fingertips were replaced by his lips. His hand lightly caressed her knee and he licked the inside of her thigh. He grinned when he felt her shudder. He traced the lips of her sex with his tongue and she moaned. His hand moved to her hip bone and he tickled it lightly. Her hands moved to his muscled forearms. His tongue expertly circled the sensitive bead of flesh he sought and she dug her nails painfully into his skin, but he didn't mind. He didn't even notice. He was otherwise occupied. Finally, his tongue moved between her lips, greeted by a warm rush of liquid. Her breathing immediately became shaky.  
  
"Oh, God. . .Spike. . ."  
  
The feel of his tongue inside of her became to much, but just as she was about to climax he stilled all movement, allowing her to come down from the peak before she was pushed completely over. Only once her breathing had calmed did he resume motion. He slowly brought her close to the edge again, but for a second time, he halted just short of her orgasm.  
  
"Spike, please," she begged. He grinned.  
  
"Please what?" he growled, moving slowly up her flushed body to look her in the eye.  
  
"Dammit, Spike," Buffy groaned. He moved his hips between her thighs and she felt the hard length of him pressing against her.  
  
"Say it, Buffy," he commanded sternly.  
  
"Spike . . .," she whimpered.  
  
"Say it," he said again.  
  
"God, Spike, I need you inside me. Please."  
  
Smiling in satisfaction, he reached to the nightstand next to the bed and grabbed a condom, unwrapping it and slipping it on. He pushed himself deep inside of her. She groaned and arched into him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull his lips down onto hers. He drove into her again and again as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, seeking hers.  
  
"Cor," he whispered. "Buffy, you're so. . .wet. . .and tight. . ." His erotic words gave her the final shove, sending her spiraling into ecstasy, shattering like a fine crystal glass.  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
"Spike," Buffy whined, trying to push his arm from around her waist. "Spike, let me go." He grumbled something incoherently, pulling her back against his chest. "I have to go to work."  
  
"No, you don't."  
  
"It's Monday morning. I'm already going to be late. Daddy's gunna yell at me."  
  
"Aw, poor baby," Spike teased, kissing her behind the ear. He happened to glance at the clock on her nightstand while he fiddled with a stray blonde wisp of her hair. He stiffened. "Oh, shit. I gotta go, pet. I'm supposed to meet Xander and the guys for brunch. You know. Talk shop." She snorted.  
  
"Oh, so I can't leave when you get snuggly, but it's okay for you to bail on me?" He paused.  
  
"Exactly." She rolled her eyes as they each slid out of the bed. He began searching for his socks.  
  
"I have to take a shower." She moved to the door of the bathroom that adjoined to her room. He shot her a rakish grin.  
  
"Am I invited?" She giggled when he wiggled his eyebrows comically. When he wasn't insulting her and her family, she almost liked him. Almost.  
  
"Not this time, sparky. I really have to hurry."  
  
"I'm always up for a quicky."  
  
"No." He sighed in defeat, pulling on his shirt.  
  
"I. . .uh. . .That is. . ." Buffy grinned at Spike's nervousness. He took a deep breath and began again. "My band is playing at The Bronze tonight. Maybe you could come. . ." She said nothing, just smiled at him as he timidly scratched his head. For a moment, he didn't think she would answer.  
  
"Sure, Spike. I'd love to." 


	11. Songs

Chapter 10:  
  
"Oh, my God, Willow. I don't know what to do. I'm so confused," Buffy groaned into the telephone receiver.  
  
"Why? What's wrong? What happened? Did Spike do something?" Willow asked, sounding panicked.  
  
"No, no. Well, yes. But not like you think. It's just. . .He wants us to have a fling, Will."  
  
"A fling? A fling? You and Spike Giles? Did I miss something here?"  
  
"Well, last night he dropped me off at my place, right? My parents had taken Dawn out somewhere. We're the only ones in the house. One thing, kinda leads to another and. . ." She trailed off, biting her lips nervously, tapping a pen on her desk in the law firm.  
  
"Oh, my God. Buffy! You slept with Spike? Again?" Willow paused. "And you were SOBER?" Buffy winced on the other end of the line.  
  
"Kinda. Will, am I screwed up?" Her red-headed friend immediately felt bad for tearing into her. She was obviously very, very confused and needed advice.  
  
"No, Buffy, no. Not at all. I mean, it's entirely natural to want what you shouldn't have, right? And it's perfectly harmless as long as you don't. . .um. . .tell anyone."  
  
"I guess. And it's only for a little while."  
  
"Exactly. Perfectly harmless. Look, I have to go. Recess is almost over and I need to get back to my class."  
  
"Okay. I'll call you later."  
  
Buffy disconnected the call as her father entered her office. Buffy had never been one to lie to her parents, and she turned bright red as Hank Summers sat down on the edge of her desk.  
  
"You okay, hun? You look kind of flushed," he said frowning.  
  
"I'm fine, Daddy. Did you want something?" She was surprised by how composed she sounded. Probably had something to do with being a lawyer.  
  
"I just came to give you this." He flopped a file down on the wooden desk. She opened it and scanned the front page.  
  
"You're assigning me to the Belding case?" She looked surprised as her emerald eyes returned to her father. He smiled.  
  
"Well, you did such a good job with the Anderson divorce, I thought you could handle this one." Buffy nodded.  
  
"Sure. I mean, it's only a robbery. I'm sure I can get a conviction. No problem."  
  
"That's my girl." He patted her lovingly on the shoulder and left her office.  
  
"Dad, wait," she called. He obligingly stuck his head back inside the office.  
  
"What is it, hun?" Buffy swallowed before answering and shuffled some papers around on her desk.  
  
"What did Rupert Giles do to you?" Hank stiffened noticeably. "I know you used to be friends. That much is mentioned whenever you're both in the news together. What happened?"  
  
"It's not important now," he said softly. Buffy stood up.  
  
"If it's so unimportant then why are you still holding a grudge?"  
  
"Why are you bringing this up now? Why the sudden interest in old family vendettas?"  
  
"I ran into Spike Giles the other day in Legends." Her father frowned.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"William."  
  
"Oh, that Billy Idol wannabe? He's calling himself Spike nowadays, is he?" She didn't answer, but her hand curled into a fist at her side when he insulted Spike. "He's always been no good, that one. Stay away from him."  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
"Don't let that one get away from you," said the woman across the table from her. Buffy gave her a smile and watched Spike stroll to the stage after introducing her to Cordelia Chase, the bass guitarist's girlfriend. "I'm glad Spike started bringing someone to gigs again," she continued. "After Druscilla dumped him he didn't even try to commit. He just kinda. . . toyed with groupies." Cordelia seemed oblivious to the tightening of Buffy's jaw. "We're groupies, too. Just the permanent kind. If you show up for four more gigs we can make you an honorary member of the groupie club. Right now it's just me and Fred, but soon you and Willow can join."  
  
"So you're dating the guy on bass?"  
  
"Yeah. That's Angel." Her voice sounded almost wistful. "And the guy on keyboard is Charles. Everyone calls him Gunn. It's his last name. I think you've already met Xander?"  
  
"Yes, I have." Spike shot her a cocky smirk when he caught her staring as he tuned his guitar. When he was done, he returned to his fully upright position and looked around at the guys behind him to make sure they were ready to begin the first song. He received thumbs up all around and turned back to the microphone in front of him.  
  
"This song is one I always liked, but never found a reason to sing until now."  
  
They began to play and music filled the air. He started to sing.  
  
"Opened my eyes today  
  
And I knew there's something different  
  
Saw you in a brand new way  
  
Like the clouds had somehow lifted  
  
And if yesterday I heard  
  
Myself saying these words  
  
I would swear it was a lie  
  
I don't know why but suddenly I'm falling  
  
Was I so blind  
  
I was loving you all the time  
  
Now I'm hopelessly addicted  
  
Helplessly attracted  
  
I'll make a wish this day  
  
And I'll send it to the heavens  
  
That we will always stay  
  
Entwined like this forever  
  
And though the world may change  
  
Coz nothing stays the same  
  
I know will survive  
  
I don't know why but suddenly I'm falling  
  
Was I so blind  
  
I was loving you all the time  
  
Now I'm hopelessly addicted  
  
Helplessly attracted  
  
Naturally we acted  
  
Hopelessly addicted  
  
Helplessly attracted  
  
Chemically reacted  
  
Naturally we acted."  
  
The song ended, and Buffy exhaled a breath she hadn't knew she'd been holding. 


	12. Busted

Chapter 11:  
  
"I had no idea it was possible to make a mushy song sound that punky and still sincere," Buffy commented, frowning lightly before sipping at her drink. Spike and the rest of the band had joined her and Cordelia at the table after they were done playing. He glared at Angel and Gunn, who just grinned back at him.  
  
"Those poofs didn't tell me that Hopelessly Addicted was originally sung by some chit. When I joined the band, they just handed me their version and told me to sing and play it. Wankers."  
  
"Not our fault you're a dumbass," Angel retorted jokingly. Spike didn't bother responding. He just rolled his eyes at Buffy, who smiled. She was taking another sip from her drink when he leaned down close to her and whispered something in her ear. His 'comment' caused her to choke on her cocktail and he gave her a satisfied smirk as she forced the liquid down her throat.  
  
"You can't say that in public," she scolded harshly.  
  
"Believe I just did, love." She treated him to a murderous glance, ignoring the amused snorts from the other band members and Cordelia. "So, what do you say? Give it a try?" She looked into her drink, seemingly fascinated by its liquidy center as she blushed profusely. Then, working up her nerve, she quickly slipped on her coat, slipped out of her seat and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the exit. Just as they reached the door, he cupped a hand to his mouth and called to Xander. "Get the tab, will ya, mate?"  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
One of them moaned, weren't really sure which one, as they pushed open the door of Buffy's room without breaking the fiery kiss. Spike's shirt landed on the floor with a soft woosh. The door was kicked shut and Buffy pressed against it. He nibbled the soft skin between her neck and shoulder. Her breathing became ragged as he lightly palmed her breast through her shirt.  
  
"Spike," she whispered, gently pushing against his chest to get his attention.  
  
"Hmm," he responded into her neck.  
  
"What's. . .this. . .uh. . . thing called?" she panted. How was she supposed to concentrate on forming coherent questions when he kept rolling his hips against her? Oh, God. She could feel his already-straining erection pressing into her abdomen. Stupid thinking. Thinking was overrated, anyway. Who needs it?  
  
"What thing, pet?" She smelled too good. Her scent was fogging his mind. Now, what was she talking about? Hope it wasn't anything important. He really couldn't be expected to comprehend whatever she was saying when she felt so soft and pliant. . .Mmm. . .Pliant Buffy. . .  
  
"At. . .The Bronze. . .Choking Buffy. . .called. . .," was pretty much what she was able to force out of her throat.  
  
"Oh. . .uh. . .right. . ." His mouth trailed down her throat to her breasts. Wait. When had her shirt come off? Oh, who cares? "Uh. . .Kama Sutra book . . .Somethin' 'bout yawning. . ."  
  
"Probably work better on the bed, huh?"  
  
"Wha'? Oh, right." He was somehow able to pull away from her hot, tight little body long enough to move them to the bed.  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, attempting to clear her head of Spike so she could focus on what they were to do. She deftly unbuttoned her denim shorts, letting them slide down her long, tanned legs to the floor. He swallowed dryly at the sight of her pushing her panties off, never letting her gaze wander from his face. When he didn't move, she took the initiative, moving toward him to unbuckle his belt, then unfasten his jeans. He snapped out of his reverie when he felt the sensation of her skin on his as she pushed his pants off of him.  
  
"Alright, love. Lay back on the bed," he commanded. She smiled briefly and did as he asked, arranging herself in a comfortable position on the pillows. He sighed and pulled a condom out of the box she kept in her nightstand, sheathing his throbbing erection in the latex casing. He then crawled onto the bed and kneeled between her knees, placing his hands on her ankles. "Relax, okay?"  
  
She nodded, her breathing laboring again when he lifted her legs to rest her knees on his shoulders. She used her forearms to hold herself up and he positioned himself at her opening. She whimpered when, before entering her, her grasped her hands in his. He let his eyes flutter closed as he slowly inched his hips forward, piercing her so gradually that she almost cried out. When he was completely inside her, he began to pull out just as slowly as he'd entered.  
  
His temples throbbed with the effort and self-control it took not to come right at that moment. That wouldn't have been fair to either of them. But she felt so good, her tight muscles steadily loosening around him as she molded to his size. She felt perfect. He began to pick up the pace ever so slowly. A flush crept over her sweat-slicked skin.  
  
"Oh, God. . .Spike. . .so good. . .," she moaned softly. His grip on her hands tightened slightly. He pushed against the resistance provided by her legs pressed against his chest. Buffy could feel the blood pounding in her ears as the tension began to build in her abdomen. Her inner muscles contracted, finally clenching around him as she reached her peak. He gave one last thrust before emptying his seed into the condom.  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
"Remind me to check out a book on Kama Sutra from the library, hmmm?" Buffy murmured sleepily. She snuggled deeper into Spike's shoulder and he grunted a response. Sex with Spike was tiring. But oh-so-fun. . .The thought had her grinning devilishly against his warmth.  
  
Sleep was good. The fog surrounding his mind began to roll in a little bit closer with every passing moment. He doubted he could have gotten up if he'd wanted to. Not that he wanted to. Ever. He could stay there, cuddled up with Buffy, forever if Xander and the rest of the guys would let him. But that would never happen. . .Selfish wankers. . . That's what they were. Sodding poofters. All of them.  
  
He was jerked out of his resentful contemplation by the feeling of a tongue traveling up his neck. A small hand closed around his flaccid penis and he moaned, eyes still closed, as he felt himself begin to grow hard again.  
  
"Good Lord, woman. Not again. . .," he whined. He heard a diminutive whimper of unhappiness, but her slow and easy strokes didn't stop. "I don't think I can. . ." He trailed off, his vague feeling of amazement at his growing erection giving way to blinding pleasure. "Buffy. . ." Her name died in his throat when she kissed him leisurely. Her expert thumb glided over the velvety tip of him at the same time her tongue slithered between his lips to flirt with his own. His hand moved of its own volition to bury itself in her silky blonde hair.  
  
"Buffy, are you home?" The door to her bedroom swung open and she jerked away from Spike, eyes widening guiltily. Hank Summers gaped down at his daughter, naked, in bed, with his worst enemy's son.  
  
A/N: Hahahahahahahaha!!!! I laugh at you all!! Because I know what's going to happen any YOU don't!!! Hahahaha!!!!!! Okay, I'm done. . .Maybe just one more. Hahahahahahaha!!!!!! Okay, I swear I'm over it. Now, there was something I was going to write here. . .but what was it. . .? Uh. . . OH YEAH!!!!! You guys all have to go vote for me on Spuffy Awards and Shadows and Dust Fanfic Awards cuz I'm all nominated and stuff. Go!! Vote now!!! I wanna see some voting or I might just have to make you wait a REALLY long time to find out what happens! ;) Like I did this time (sorry about that, by the way. Stupid exams) No, seriously I wouldn't blackmail you like that. Or would I? Moohoohahaha!!!! 


	13. Consequences

Chapter 12: Consequences  
  
"What the hell is going here?" Hank yelled, looking very confused. "This is a joke, right? Right, Buffy?" She bit her lip, furiously trying to think of a plausible excuse while clutching a bed sheet to her chest. Her lawyer background failed her. She could not think of a single thing to say. So she resorted to shaking her head. "No? You and William. . .? Nah. . ." Hank waved a dismissing hand at them.  
  
"Why is it so hard to believe that Buffy and I have. . .a relationship?" Spike questioned. Personally, he believed that it was very rude to have dismissed this whole scenario as a joke before he'd even had a chance to explain anything.  
  
"Buffy, is this true? Are you having . . .relations with a . . .," he took on a purely disgusted look, "Giles?" It was his tone that made her snap.  
  
"Yes, it's true, Daddy. Spike and I. . .we. . .," she stuttered. "We're having an illicit affair. With lots of sex," she spat defiantly. Spike gaped at her. "Ever since. . .uh. . .last week."  
  
"We're having a what?" She didn't hear him. She was too busy concentrating on Hank, whose face was turning an unhealthy purplish red color.  
  
"Get out of my house," he demanded, his voice barely above a threatening whisper. Buffy swallowed hard, feeling Spike's hand grasp hers under the sheet.  
  
"What?" Maybe she hadn't heard him correctly, but it sounded as thought he'd said -  
  
"Get out of my house now!" he repeated furiously. "I don't want to look at you right now. I'm ashamed to call you family." Attracted by the yelling, Dawn and Joyce appeared near the door to Buffy's bedroom. "As far as I'm concerned, you are no longer my daughter." Dawn gasped. Joyce's eyes widened, but she said nothing.  
  
"Are - are you - serious?" Tears began to fill her beautiful green eyes.  
  
"Completely. You have two minutes and counting before I do something rash." He grabbed hold of Dawn's arm, yanking her away from the doorway as he stomped down the hallway. Joyce stepped back a bit, but looked back at Buffy and Spike as she was about to leave.  
  
"You'd better go. But call me on my cell phone, so your father won't know. We'll work something out, hun. Don't you worry." With that said, she exited to another wing of the house.  
  
"Buffy," Spike prompted gently, "are you okay, love?" She forced a smile and an extremely unrealistic laugh.  
  
"Me? I'm peachy with a side of keen. Come on. We'd better get out of here before 'he does something rash'," she said with an imitation of her father's deep voice. She hopped out of the bed and quickly yanked on some clothing. Frowning slightly at the indifference with which she was treating the situation, Spike followed her lead, dressing in silence. Then he waited as she pulled a suitcase out from under her bed and proceeded to toss her most important belongings into the travel case. Zipping it shut, she breathed deeply, ignoring the telltale shudder in the sigh. "Well now, lets see if we can't find me a place to live." She stuck her head our into the hall, checking for relatives, before stepping out of the safety of her room. "There was a place I was looking at a couple of weeks ago, it might still be vacant -"  
  
"You don't need it." She looked back at him from her spot on the staircase.  
  
"I don't?"  
  
"Nope," he said firmly. "You're comin' to stay at my flat."  
  
"I am?" He nodded. "With you?"  
  
" 's right, pet. You're lookin' at your brand-spankin'-new roommate."  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
Buffy pushed the disconnect button on Spike's cordless phone and laid her chin on her knees. Explaining to Willow exactly what had happened had taken a tad longer than she'd anticipated, and she was emotionally drained. She wanted to cry her heart out, but had decided back in her bedroom that doing so would only cause discomfort to poor Spike. So far, he'd been a complete gentleman about the entire state of affairs; not pressing her about her father's overreaction, offering her a place to live, but she knew he was only doing it because he wanted her to get a grip quickly so they could resume their tumultuous affair. She sank back into the spongy cushion of Spike's couch, allowing a tear to roll down her cheek to hang precariously off her chin.  
  
Dammit, she looked so pitiful sitting their on his couch, arms wrapped protectively around her knees. She had just hung up from Red, and explaining the circumstances of Buffy's hasty change in address seemed to have left her very little energy to do anything but sit and cry. He knew she didn't want to cry though. Not with him there. She didn't know him well enough and had spent too much time hating him for her to feel comfortable crying near him. Sure, he knew her body and vice versa, but there was so many levels to both of them that the other hadn't yet bothered to consider exploring. It would be intrusive of him to watch her cry.  
  
He knew this, yet couldn't stop himself from slowly joining her on the sofa. She looked up at him, unintentionally giving him puppy dog eyes. And who could resist those? His finger hesitantly reached out and caught the teardrop poised on her jaw.  
  
His deep blue eyes reflected his pity for her, his expression one of bottomless sympathy for her situation. She supposed he knew what she was going though, having gone through it with his own father. Not exactly the same circumstances, of course, but close nonetheless. . .  
  
She said nothing, nor did he as he little by little leaned in, tilting her chin up slightly. He kissed her so softly, she wasn't completely certain that his lips had actually made contact with hers. She tentatively unhooked her arms from around her legs and let her hand sit lightly on his muscled forearm, silently urging him to comfort her in the only way he really knew how. It was the only thing he knew for certain that she would accept from him at the moment.  
  
So truly contrasting of their previous encounters, he was so tender with her that she wondered for a moment whether he himself was alright. Her lips parted with ease when he silently requested her permission to enter. His fingers unbuttoned her blouse with agonizing slowness, keeping pace with the rest of his movements. When he finally slid the shirt down her arms, she shivered almost imperceptibly.  
  
Surprisingly, it wasn't too hard for him to go this slowly. It was slower than he'd ever managed before, with any woman, yet it felt right to go this rate, because he knew it was what she needed. He interrupted this kiss to remove his shirt, then resumed his leisurely exploration of her mouth.  
  
Her bra was removed and his fingered trailed lightly down the curve of her throat to tickle her breasts. When she seemed about to moan, she bit it back, unwilling to disturb the passionate silence that remained unbroken save heavy breathing and light sighs. Buffy did nothing to help him get rid of his jeans. It seemed more fitting for him to be in complete control this time. Only when he was completely stripped did he turn to her. She laid back on the couch, sinking into the cushion and felt his hands on the hem of her denim pants. He pulled the button through its loop before slowly pulling the zipper down with a soft metallic hiss. Spike then hooked his fingers under the edge of the jeans and she lifted her hips to accommodate her departing clothes. They landed on the floor with a soft swoosh. He moved between her bent knees, knowing that she'd already be ready for him. Her hips tilted up fractionally, of their volition. His eyes never left hers, intensity shimmering between them, communicating without words the need each felt for the other.  
  
She remained utterly quiet as he slid into her, so slowly it hardly seemed like he was moving at all. When she was totally filled, her only reaction was a soft breath of satisfaction.  
  
'Oh, yeah,' she thought. 'This is comfort.' 


	14. Wrongful Termination

Chapter 13: Wrongful Termination  
  
Buffy sighed peacefully, leaning back into Spike's chest. They sat together silently, content to watch the fire crackle harmlessly in the fireplace.  
  
She was comfortable here. In Spike's home. When she'd asked Spike how he could afford such a nice apartment, considering he'd refused anything his father had offered him, even his trust fund, he'd simply said that he'd saved up quite a bit of money and she shouldn't worry.  
  
But there were more pressing matters than Spike's source of income. For both of them.  
  
"What are you going to do at work tomorrow?" he asked her softly. She shrugged against him.  
  
"I don't know. I can't not go." She closed her warm green eyes. "Let's not talk about it now."  
  
"We have to talk about it sometime, love."  
  
"I know. Just not now."  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
Buffy took a deep, steadying breath as she gathered the courage to push open the doors to H.G. Summers and Associates.  
  
Her silky blonde hair had been pulled back into a stern-looking bun at the nape of her neck. Her skirt and blazer were a dark. Forest green that brought out her eyes and her feet were decked out in matching heels. The ensemble was one she'd picked up from home earlier that morning.  
  
She stuck a hand out in front of her and pushed open the door to the firm.  
  
Plastering her best imitation of Willow's 'resolve face' on her features, Buffy quickly covered the distance between the entrance and her private office. Almost as an afterthought, she stuck her head back out and said, "Lucy, get my mother on the phone, please," to the secretary, who then nodded.  
  
As she sat down behind her desk, she pushed the button next to the blinking light on her phone.  
  
"Your mother is on Line Two, Ms. Summers," said the secretary. Buffy depressed another button and picked up the receiver.  
  
"Hi, Mom."  
  
"How are you doing, honey?"  
  
"Fine, Mom. Sorry I didn't get to call you last night."  
  
"It's alright. I just wanted to help you out."  
  
"How's that?"  
  
"By giving you some information you may find useful."  
  
"Like?"  
  
"Have you ever met Jenny Giles?" Joyce asked abruptly. Buffy frowned on the other end of the line.  
  
"Spike's mom? I don't think so. I might have seen her in the paper once or twice. Why?"  
  
"Jenny and I have been best friends since we met at a party nearly thirty years ago."  
  
"What? How? Does Dad know?" Buffy couldn't believe this.  
  
"No, he doesn't. I've been lucky in that respect. You and William used to play together while Jenny and I had tea." She really didn't have a clue what to say to that. "Would you like to know what we did during our secret meetings?"  
  
"Sure, why not?"  
  
"We were trying to find out why Rupert and your father hate each other so much." Buffy felt her heart rate quicken.  
  
"And?"  
  
"We got as far as we could with our limited resources. After all, neither of us are, say, lawyers." Joyce out an emphasis on the last word, ensuring Buffy caught her meaning.  
  
Movement near Buffy's office door caught her eye. The angry form of Hank Summers made her jump slightly.  
  
"I'll call you back," she told her mother, not waiting for an answer before placing the receiver back in the cradle. Then, she did her best to look expressionless. "Can I help you?" she asked coolly.  
  
"What are you doing here, Elizabeth?" he questioned. She was taken aback. He'd never called her anything but Buffy.  
  
"Working. You?" He ignored her inquiry.  
  
"I assumed you were intelligent enough to realize that you no longer have a place here at H.G. Summers and Associates." Her green eyes widened.  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
"You're fired."  
  
"On what grounds?"  
  
"You've become a liability to the firm. I don't think I need to explain myself any further. I expect you to have your things packed and removed within the hour."  
  
He didn't wait for a reply. Just turned and strode back to his office.  
  
Buffy forced her jaw closed, unaware that it had been open, and shook her head roughly. The nerve of that bastard!  
  
Swearing under her breath, she pulled a cardboard file box out of a closet and proceeded to toss her personal affects inside it. Finished, she looked around. Then, just for good measure, she spitefully grabbed the electric pencil sharpener and stapler and placed them in the box with her things.  
  
On the way out, a coworker, or ex-coworker, she corrected mentally, stopped her just before she reached the door.  
  
Lindsey McDonald was a good-looking guy. His dark hair was longish, but expensively styled. He smiled at her.  
  
"Hello, Buffy. Where are you going?" She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Got fired." He frowned.  
  
"Oh. Bummer." He then shrugged. "Wanna get dinner sometime?" Buffy took great pleasure in answering.  
  
"Sorry, Lindsey. I'm seeing someone."  
  
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`  
  
When Spike opened the door to let her in, it took him all of two seconds to figure out what happened.  
  
"The bastard fired me. I can't believe it. He actually fired me," she ranted, letting her box slip to the floor just inside the door. "Fucking unbelievable. Liability my ass."  
  
"I'm sorry, love," he said sympathetically. She took a deep, calming breath.  
  
"But there's an upside," she said, smiling.  
  
"There is?"  
  
"Yep. My mom is going to help us figure out why our dads hate each other. Your mom's in on it, too." Spike frowned.  
  
"My mum? What's this, now?"  
  
"They have a secret club or something."  
  
"My mum's in a cult?" His blue eyes glistened with a teasing confusion.  
  
"No, you freak. Our mom's are friends. They will help us discovering what happened between Rupert Giles and Hank Summers," she said slowly.  
  
"Then your dad can't be a prat any more," he said.  
  
"And it won't be bad for us to . . ." She trailed off, a blush tingeing her cheeks.  
  
"Shag like horny little bunnies?" he finished, wiggling his eyebrows comically. She giggled at him as he wrapped his muscled arms suggestively around her waist. She pushed them away and he pouted.  
  
"Not now. I have to write a report." She moved to the box and pulled out her laptop.  
  
"A report? Why?" She looked at him, her eyes flickering with something unidentifiable.  
  
"I'm filing a wrongful termination suit." 


	15. Evidence

Chapter 14: Evidence  
  
Buffy absently waved goodbye to her mother as she slid into the driver's seat of her Sunfire. Her mind was whirling with information that it couldn't quite comprehend. It was probably a good thing that she'd done some rather intense note taking throughout that conversation, otherwise it was doubtless that she'd forget everything Joyce had told her before it had sunken in. After all, it was a lot to deal with.  
  
And it explained a hell of a lot...  
  
She had to meet with that cop... What had Joyce said his name was? Melvin something?  
  
Her green eyes flickered to the note pad on the passenger seat as Buffy pulled the car out of the parking lot of the restaurant.  
  
Quentin Travers. The investigator. That was where she'd get some answers.  
  
*~*~*  
  
She rapped sharply on the wooden door to the office. The atmosphere was busy and pleasant. This branch of the LAPD had always been one of her favorites. The police officers in this branch were nicer than in the other offices. They had always been more cooperative when Buffy worked with them on cases, as well.  
  
"Can I help you, Miss...?"  
  
Buffy turned toward the voice and was greeted by a man in his early sixties, with graying hair and a solemn face. He was wearing an LAPD uniform, complete with badge. He looked like the sort of man who should have retired long before.  
  
"Summers," she introduced, extending her free hand; The other was clasping her briefcase. "I'd like to speak to Quentin Travers."  
  
"I'm Travers." She stepped back as he moved toward the office door and unlocked it. "Come in, Miss Summers, and I'll see what I can do for you."  
  
Buffy stepped into his office and he motioned her into a chair as he moved behind his desk and seated himself.  
  
She had just opened her mouth to get to the point when her cell phone rang, the sound of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata filling the room. She smiled apologetically at Travers and he nodded acceptingly as she answered.  
  
"Buffy Summers," she greeted the caller.  
  
"A wrongful termination suit?! What the hell do you think—"  
  
She clicked the phone shut and hit the power button.  
  
"Sorry about that, Mr. Travers. I get a lot of wrong numbers," she explained graciously, crossing her legs.  
  
"Quite alright, Miss Summers. Now what brings you to my office?"  
  
"I'm actually here to talk to you about an investigation you headed up quite a while ago." He nodded for her to continue. "The Stanley Case? A girl named Olivia Stanley was found on the pavement outside her thirteenth floor apartment and it was ruled a suicide."  
  
Travers' expression hardened immediately.  
  
"I'm sorry, Miss Summers, but I'm not at liberty to discuss that case."  
  
"Mr. Travers," she prompted, "I am a lawyer. Either you tell me what I want to know or I officially reopen the case and make it a *very* public event."  
  
His gray eyes flickered slightly with something akin to fear and he looked a bit edgy as he responded.  
  
"Alright, Miss Summers, there's no need to do anything rash." His voice portrayed his contempt toward her inquiries. Of course, Buffy had known he wouldn't like her poking around in this case. It was a sore spot in the Los Angeles Police Department. "What do you need me to answer?"  
  
"First of all, tell me exactly what you remember about when you got called in for the case." He sighed resignedly and rolled his eyes, clearly agitated.  
  
"It was about... twenty-five years ago. Maybe mid-April. I was just about to call it a night when I get a call on my CB. Possible homicide at 1374 Centre Street. I hurried down there as fast as the patrol car could go and by the time I got to the apartment complex, there was a crowd gathered around the yellow tape and an EMU van was parked half on the sidewalk. The Medical Examiner was already going over the scene and there was a few other cops there. I got out of my car and walked up. Young black girl, maybe 19, laying on the sidewalk. Blood all over the place. It was a nasty scene. No question about it, it was a suicide. We poked around, talked to some witnesses. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the girl had offed herself."  
  
Buffy frowned at Travers. He'd forgotten to explain something her mother had been very careful to point out. One of the biggest factors of the case.  
  
"What was her motive? Why would she kill herself?" Travers glowered at her.  
  
"Love triangle, best we figured. She was dating some big shot football player at ULA who was rooming with her best friend. They made quite the trio. Good friends and all, but the best friend got jealous and wanted her for himself. They got into a big fight over her and rather than deal with it, she jumped off the balcony. Simple as that."  
  
She watched him carefully for a moment and he arched a bushy eyebrow at her.  
  
"Can I have a copy of the case file, please?"  
  
"You most certainly cannot," Travers responded immediately, looking slightly indifferent. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Do you want me to get a warrant? So that *everyone* will know that I'm looking in to the case?"  
  
He pushed his chair back and leaned over his desk to glare threateningly at her.  
  
"Listen up, you little hussy. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I want you to know that I'm on to you. I've got my eye on you, Miss..."  
  
"Summers. Buffy Summers. As in Hank Summers' daughter. Hank Summers. Ring any bells?" she murmured, watching him intently.  
  
"Hank Summers... That little punk football player?" Travers went a little bit white. "The one from the Stanley suicide case?" Buffy sighed.  
  
"Obviously... Just give me the damn case file, Travers, before I lean over your desk and take it myself."  
  
He nodded jerkily and opened the filing cabinet behind his desk. He ruffled through its contents for a moment before removing the correct file.  
  
"We don't normally keep cases for this long, especially ones that have been solved."  
  
"So why did you keep this one?" she asked, taking it from his hands.  
  
"Don't know," he said quickly. "Just never got around to it, I suppose."  
  
"Alright." She smiled politely, deciding not to press further at the moment. There would be plenty of time for that later. "Thank you for your cooperation, Investigator. I deeply appreciate it."  
  
"Of course, Miss Summers. Anything I can do to help..."  
  
She nodded and slipped out the door quietly. Time to get back home to Spike. They had some show and tell to do.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"Spike? You here?" she called, stepping into the apartment and setting her briefcase on the floor. The only response she received was a series of guitar chords coming through the walls from the bedroom. He was practicing.  
  
Buffy shrugged off her jacket and hung it up on the coat rack next to the door, slipping her high heels off her feet. She immediately felt the relief of the air on her heels through the hose covering her legs and sighed a little bit. God, she hated wearing high heels. She unbuttoned her blouse a little more and slipped her hands up her skirt, hooking her thumbs into the edge of the panty hose and pulling them down her legs. She hopped out of them and balled them up, over-handing them onto the couch in the living room. Ahh, sweet relief.  
  
She picked up the briefcase again and hurried upstairs, swinging open the door to the bedroom. She grinned.  
  
Spike was standing facing her, and he looked up at her, smiling rakishly as he continued to play. Topless. He looked so cute with his hair rumpled and wearing only a pair of ratty old jeans, barefoot on the carpet.  
  
She opened her briefcase and removed the case file, waving it toward him. His eyes widened and he fumbled a chord. Then he set the guitar down and moved toward her, sliding his arms around her waist.  
  
"What have we got here, luv?" he murmured, nodding to the file.  
  
"I got the goods."  
  
"So what's the verdict? Why do our families hate one another? One borrow money from the other and forget to pay it back? Did one knock up someone from the other side?" She smiled at him playfully.  
  
"None of the above. Love triangle resulting in death. It was ruled suicide."  
  
"Love triangle?" He winced a little bit. "Gross..."  
  
She laughed and pushed him toward the bed.  
  
"Come on, let's look at the file. I didn't get a chance, I left Travers' office before I looked. He creeped me out."  
  
"Travers? The guy your mom told you about?"  
  
"Yeah. He was a cop working the case. Come on."  
  
She slid onto the bed and laid on her stomach, flipping the file open. There was a picture of Olivia Stanley on the first page. She was a pretty black girl of around twenty, like Travers had said.  
  
"Our dads were best friends in college. Roommates. Your dad introduced my dad to this girl. Olivia Stanley," Buffy told him. "My mom told me that all she and Jenny found out was that Dad dated Olivia and Rupert became jealous and then he and Daddy had loads of fights about it. Mom said that Olivia was found dead and they said it was a suicide because she couldn't bear to see her two best friends fight over her."  
  
"Sounds like a load of bollocks to me," Spike muttered.  
  
"Me too. But that's why the Giles' and Summers' hate each other. They blame each other for Olivia's death. That's why I got the case file." She looked down at the file again, flipping to the evidence page. It also contained some rather gruesome photographs of the crime scene. "Look at all this evidence. When Olivia was found, she was face up. When you jump off a balcony, wouldn't you land the way you jumped?" She scanned the page again. "And look, they found hairs under her fingernails that didn't belong to Dad or Rupert."  
  
"So who's were they?"  
  
"Exactly. There's too much evidence that has been ignored here. This was a cover up."  
  
"And if we can prove that Olivia didn't kill herself-"  
  
"Then our families have no reason to fight any more."  
  
A/N: Oh, I'm a bad, bad person. I can't believe I haven't updated in so long... Everything has been so hectic... I'm so so sooooo sorry, guys. Please don't hate me... 


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